


Her Bougainvillea Blues

by Pouncer



Category: Justified
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Het, PWP, Yuletide 2010
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-24
Updated: 2010-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-14 01:52:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/144044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pouncer/pseuds/Pouncer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raylan's motel room gets clean sheets every day.  Ava does her best to give the maids something to talk about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her Bougainvillea Blues

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elzed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elzed/gifts).



Raylan is a long, tall drink of water on a hot day. Not even sweet tea tastes as good to Ava as his skin. His touches never hurt her, even when he's forceful in the heat of passion.

He left Harlan and doesn't want to be back. She'll never leave, Crowder family complications or no. Ava wouldn't know what to do in a city. She loves the hills and the green, the services on Sunday where praise is sung to the Lord, the hunting and fishing and way the community pulls together when one of theirs needs it.

Secrets abound, and she can drink whisky straight and shoot a rifle and cook supper when she doesn't know if she'll have two guests or twenty.

Ava's life, for years, was one of uncertainty and sudden violence. She endured. She didn't let her back bend. And now that Bowman ain't around to plague her no more, Ava reckons she can indulge for a spell.

Raylan's motel room gets clean sheets every day. Ava does her best to give the maids something to talk about.

The bourbon they'd drunk mellows when she licks her way into Raylan's mouth. She pushes him back on the bed, crawls over him, and unzips his jeans. He don't wear briefs. Or boxers. She pulls his cock out, draws her tongue up his length, all soft and teasing. He swears.

Her mouth fits around him. She loves how his hips buck up, how she can make him tremble.

When he fists his hands in her hair and tugs, she lets herself be drawn up his body. Her knees settle near his waist, and she sinks down onto him. Raylan's fingers pinch at her nipples, and then he's reeling her in for a kiss while thrusting up in a rhythm designed to torment.

Ava figures turn-about is fair play, and the ride is so, so delicious. He's full and hard inside her, knows just how to rub, how to guide her hips with his big, strong hands.

They rut together for what feels like eternity. Sweat drips from her skin to his.

Her pleasure coils sharper and deeper, runs up her spine to her breasts, leaves her gasping. It breaks over her like a wave from the ocean she's never seen, uncontrollable and wild.

Raylan curses beneath her, shoves up again and again and one final time before he too finishes.

She rests her head on his chest, and kisses the spot over his heart.

This thing between them isn't love, much as she might wish it to be.

Sex with Bowman was many things -- a chore, a torment, a wifely duty -- but it was never anything she wanted.

Ava wants this. She'll take it for as long as Raylan will oblige.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Iron and Wine's Passing Afternoon. This ended up being more about Ava than Raylan, but I hope you still enjoy it.


End file.
